


If I said nothing...

by Elegant_Ella



Category: Main - Fandom, N/A - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, First Time, First time writing, Friendship, Light Angst, Other, Romance, Slice of Life, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elegant_Ella/pseuds/Elegant_Ella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rain finds himself falling in love with someone he would never expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ★Hello, Everyone! This is my first time writing, so please spare me the harsh judgement. I would appreciate honest feedback as well as tips for improving my writing.

Chapter One

Secluded behind the numerous streets of Swan Lakes, there is the forgotten lane. Alcove Lane. Some say it's the quiet part of the neighborhood, compared to other sections. Others say it's a ghost street, empty and abandoned by humanity itself. Outsiders say it's the smallest cul-de-sac. Most of them are right.

Alcove lane only held four houses. They were aligned in a semi-circle, all equally spaced by their trees and grass. The houses did all look the same, with a few variations. The third house had a large oculus, Mr and Mrs. Ery had a large front and back porch, Ms. Henrietta had large windows on her house, and Mr. Fredrick had the biggest backyard. The houses didn't look like much, going hand-in-hand with the neighboring houses, hiding just how different these residents were. The people themselves were considered normal, at least, they thought so.  
In the first house, there lived a juggler named Mr. Fredrick. He loved to juggle things, it was his hobby. Even though he was about thirty years old, he could be found outside, juggling pots, pans, and everything in sight. The most energetic of the neighbors would be awarded to the man who wore clowns makeup. 

The person in the second house was rarely seen in their house. Ms. Henrietta was a contortionist who liked to climb her house and others as well. Her favorite spot was the roof, where she would watch the days go by. Everyone remembered her from her visits. She would often enter through windows instead of doors, earning the nickname "Ms.Spider". 

The only couple on the block is Mr and Mrs. Ery in the fourth house. Mr.Ery was a hunchback. He was an old man with a beard and sun-bleached white hair. He was often found on his front porch with his wife, Mable. Mable Ery or Mrs.Ery, was a midget. She was always grumpy about something, though she never remembered what. 

There was nothing odd about the third house.It seemed abandoned. The only thing that showed that people lived there was the garden. The garden was filled with blue gardenias, yellow lines and one large red rosebush that seemed to be growing over every other flower. The person who took care of them, however, was only seen in the morning, and once in the afternoon. On the second floor, directly in the center was a large oculus covered in stained glass. In the bottom left corner, there was a girl. Her long ebony hair could barely be seen from the viewers below. Her name was Rain. Though, when she moved her hair back, her futures turned masculine. Rain, age fifteen, still looked androgynous for his age. His more masculine features hadn't quite blossomed yet. The only feature that showed he was a male was his eyes. Hidden behind a pair of Giorgio Armani's, they were a light shade of gray. His glasses teetered on the edge of his nose, daring to fall off. He readjusted his glasses before continuing his work.

In front of his was a desk, a piece of paper and his sets of pencils. His paper was held down by his left hand while his right hand moved rapidly across the page. 

The image was slightly muddled, covered up by eraser shavings, lead chips and broken pencil heads. Underneath, the drawing was beginning to form. His right hand began to slow, brushing back the ashes. The pencil, now a useless nub, was set aside. Rain lifted the drawing and shook it, watching all the residue build up on the tiled floor.  
"It's finished," he said softly. In his hands, the paper fluttered happily, as if happy to be completed. The drawing was of two kids;one boy and one girl. They sat, holding hands, smiling endearingly at Rain. He smiled again. He made his way across the room to his bedside. He rumanged in the drawer for a bit before finding two peices of sticky-tack. He reached as far as he could go, which wasn't a lot, and stuck the tack to the wall. He paused, short on his breath. Hanging the picture would take time.

After a long time of jumping, finally grabbing a chair to increase his height, he barely managed to pin the picture on the wall. He half-slipped, half-staggerd backwards to admire what he had done. 

He didn't draw in color, so his picture was monotone in color, going from black to white and different shades of gray. The children seemed to look down at Rain, happy with where they were. Rain breathed a sigh of relief, but before he could he could even breathe in, a loud chewing came from his window. 

Splayed across the oculus was Ms. Henrietta.  
"So you finally finished it, I see." She mumbled through a mouthful of seemed to be a blue gardenia. Rain smiled brightly and ran to open the window. Ms. Henrietta stepped in gingerly before making her way to the drawing. Still chewing, she muttered her praise and acceptation. She turned to Rain.  
"Must I say, your flowers taste wonderful." She mumbled, biting into what Rain could now see was one one of his flowers.  
"Ms. Henrietta, please don't eat my flowers. What will the garden look like when your done?" He complained. The woman tilted her head in thought.  
"Your right, I should even out which ones I eat and replace them so you don't know." She muttered, nodding her head as if that were the most reasonable answer. Rain thought she was a little mad, but he still enjoyed her company.  
"Ms. Henrietta, what brought you to my house today?" He inquired, sitting down to hear whatever tale she had to say. She flexed her fingers.  
"I was being chased by some rude people calling me a lunatic. So I escaped then by..." She started.  
Rain liked to sit and listen to Ms. Henrietta's stories. 

Knowing they weren't entirely true.

But he still enjoyed the fact that someone still cared enough to stop by once in a while.

After Ms.Henrietta finished her winding tale, Rain was holding back giggles. Ms.Henrietta seemed pleased with the results. She reached innto her back pocket and pulled out a seed packet.  
″Thought you might like some.″She said. Rain held the packet to his face.  
″What are these?″He asked.  
″Daisies. I picked them out myself.″Ms. Henrietta replied.  
″Thank you, I appreciate it.″Rain sighed. Flowers were his personal favorite. Ms.Henrietta made her way to the window.  
″Talk to you later, dear.″She called, climbing down the house front.Rain watched her climb down, take some of his gardenias and ran back to her house. Rain shook his head. He might as well put an ″All you can-eat″sign in front of his garden. He set the packet aside, closed the window and made his way down stairs.

If he were a average kid, he would warm-up leftovers or ask his parents to cook for him. Since he had neither, he decided to make his own food.  
Not saying that he was a good cook; he wasn't a bad one either. The highest he could go was rice and it went down from there. The spices he used were bought himself just like the rest.

He decided to start with some stir-fry. Vegetables were inevitable. Little bits of broccoli, string beans, carrots mixed with large amounts of diced bell peppers.  
The definition of "diced" did not exsist in Rain's mind. Neither did "minced" nor "chopped."  
If "cut into oblivion" were a term used in cooking, then that would apply to Rain.

Multitasking is a talent not a skill. Cooking is a skill. Cooking two things at a time is talent. Rain had the skill of cooking, not the talent of multitasking. 

In the end, he burned the bottom of his rice. A table for one was nice and peaceful. Rain ate his food in silence. The wind pushed against the house making a faint rattling noise. Half-way through his stir-fry, he found the excess soy sauce piled up, drenching the remaining vegetables. It was too salty to eat. After finishing his meal, he went to take a nap. Because he could do so, he did so. The day was old and he wanted to rest before going out. 


	2. A walk in the park

Rain opened his eyes. Night cast its shadow overhead and the rising moon began to fill the sky. Rain slid out of bed quietly, letting his feet dangle for a moment before hitting the floor with a soft 'pat' sound. He ambled into the shower and stripped off his clothes. He was going to wear them again, but he wanted to freshen up first. He put his har up in a ponytail and tied on his shower cap. The water ran down his sides as he began to rub the soap against his hands. When bubbles began to form, he began to lather his body.

Taking a breath from all the steam, he wrapped a towel aound his waist. His toothbrush lay in its cup along with two other toothbrushes, both of which hadn't been used in quite some time. The toothpaste filled his mouth with a burning mint. He spit, then continued on to his Listerine. After his mouth was taken care of, he went to freshen his body.

There was a variety of fragances, powders and smell goods he could have applied, but he wanted rose this time. Rose reminded him of the night in a way: alluring and fragrant. Making it to his room, he shook out his clothes and put them back on. Then, with a second thought, changed the shirt and bottom.

Rain learned how to drive the car his parents had left behind, but even so, everytime h felt prone to an accident. Alcove Lane was silent much to his appreciation. He turned the keys and backed out of the driveway. His wrists trembled as the night air chilled his arms. He gripped the wheel tighter andd turned slowly out of the cul-de-sac.


End file.
